


Cigarettes and Glasses

by abbyisnotcool



Series: Reunions (It) [2]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Cigarettes, Eddie POV, Fluff, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Glasses, I love my boys, M/M, Myra is exactly like eddie’s mother, They love each other, a series now guys, he doesnt love her sorry guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 08:46:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14040513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbyisnotcool/pseuds/abbyisnotcool
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak always carried cigarrettes.He’s afraid of them.





	Cigarettes and Glasses

Eddie Kaspbrak carried a pack of cigarettes.

If he told his mother, or Myra for that matter, they would have both flipped out.

‘ _Eddieeeee....._ ’ he shuddered at their whines. He doesn’t know why he married Myra. Maybe this is stockhome syndrome, he jokes. But it’s not funny.

Eddie was to scared to smoke. Afraid, he doesn’t want to die like his father. Sitting in a hospital, lungs failing on him. Sure, throat and mouth cancer were also at risk but.... it gave him more of an incentive.

As a nervous habit, he would tap on the box. Many people would scowl, thinking he was about to grab a cig and light it up in the middle of a store, or...something. But he would pocket it, and the people would stare in confusion.

Hell, Eddie was confused too.

He would shake, vibrate, breathe heavily and start crying, but the smell of the cigarettes would calm him. Just the feeling of holding a box of cigs would make him smile, and calm down.

He was almost caught, by Myra, with them.

It was a bad day, messed up on the route, and a celebrity started screaming at him. He was shaking, shaking, gripping the wheel. When he dropped off the celebrity, he reached for his pocket when he froze.

_He wore the wrong pants._

The cigarettes were in the pockets of the pants that were to be washed.

_By Myra._

He stepped on the accelerator and gassed the car. He was at home in 7 minutes and 36 seconds. He counted.

He ran through the door, almost toppling Myra, who was going to the bedroom to pick up his laundry. He grabbed those washed out grey pants, fumbled for the pocket and held the cigs close to his chest.

Instant relief. He sighed, and closed his eyes. Soft singing, a guitar playing filled his mind. A loud laugh, buck teeth, and wild hair. Nicknames and cigarette breath. Warm hands, freckles, and love.

God, he hasn’t felt _love_ in awhile.

“EDDIE??” Myra opened the door and her cry filled the room. Eddie almost dropped the pack. Almost. He’s too careful for that, and his hands to dry from hand sanitizer. Years of his screaming mother, and hiding things taught him that.

‘ _Only dirty boys pick flowers’ ‘your allergies Eddie’ ‘dirty dirty dirty boys_ ’

“What are you holding Eddie?” _it sounds like his mother_. He quickly pockets the cigarettes and takes out keys. He turns around and puts on a fake smile.

“I forgot the keys for the special limo.” These are the keys for the normal limo. She tilts her fat face, which has a squinty look, almost like she’s judging him already.

“Special limo?” Eddie smiles sweetly, almost positive he put this face on for his mother.

‘ _I told you to stop hanging out with-_ ‘

“Yeah I didn’t tell you? Only for top celebrities. I’m driving Al Pacino today, and the special limo is for big celebs.” Myra nods, and looks down at the bed.

“Before you go, can you toss me those pants? I need to wash them.” Eddie tosses the pants at her, and she closes the door. He hears her loud footing, and it reminds him of sitting on his bedroom floor. Waiting for the soap opera to turn off and heavy snores.

He sighs in relief, taking out the cigs and tapping against them with his shaking hands. He lets himself get lost in the scent, imagining this love and the feeling of being loved for who he really is.

But all he remembers about love is pretty dark brown eyes, soft curly hair and rosey cheeks. Sometimes, if he thinks too hard, he’ll remember glasses and brightly colored shirts. When that happens, he opens his desk, and takes out an old pair of coke bottle glasses.

It’s also something he has no reason to own, but he does. It looks like a child’s pair, and he snorts at the thought of a kid with large eyes and a goofy smile and stolen kisses and windows and....

He hates those glasses.

It’s a different feeling then the cigarettes, almost a broken feeling. Shattered, torn apart. Like he was never meant to have them.

Today is one of the days where he is standing by the desk, holding them and the cigarettes, trying to make a connection. But he can’t.

And it frustrates him to no end.

Eddie then decided it’s time to get rid of these stupid things that have no use. It’s clutter. He loves being organized, but the feeling of dread that fills him when he thinks of throwing them out. Yet he clutches the items, willing these feelings to go away.

So he goes out and stands in the kitchen, Myra sitting on the couch. A stupid reality tv show is on. His hand hovers above the trash can when...

“Oh, _Eds_ can you hand me the remote?” He freezes. Eds, Eds, _Eds, Eds, Eds, Eds_.

 ** _Eds_**.

He slowly turns. Eyes wide. Myra looks at him weirdly.

“Thought I would try a nickname... do you like it?” She asks sweetly. Her smile makes him feel sick, so _so sick._ His mom would take him to the hospital if he looked this pale. Eddie is frozen in place, he _can’t breathe, he needs his inhaler, ~~Richie~~ has an extra one-_

He unfreezes, and thinks over again what just happened. _What was_ \- He grabs the remote and hands it to his wife, still batting her eyelashes. He.... he _hates_ it.

“Don’t call me Eds.” _Eddie Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Edward Spaghettward, cute cute cute, honey, baby, babe, sweetheart, love-_

Her face falls as he walks away, clutching the cigarettes and glasses.

And then the phone rings.

 _And he remembers_.

——————————————————

Derry.

Where It existed. Where Myra begged him to not go too. Well, she would have if she knew where he would go.

He held the glasses in his hand, cigs in his small backpack. He quickly dropped off his clothes in his old childhood home (he bought it when his mother died, he has not plans of ever using it).

Eddie just....wandered. Past the old arcade, remembering people spending their summers there, or the Aladdin where he had his first date.

His last stop was the Quarry. But he felt hesitant. For some stupid fucking reason.

Eddie was also remembering his rebellion against his mother. Why the fuck did he marry Myra? The fucking reincarnation of her? It’s sick and he hates it.

He wishes he could remember the love he feels with the cigarettes or the glasses. It was in Derry, and he just remembers feeling loved. Unconditionally. And the unintentional broken promise of something.

He wishes he could remember the person, the whatever gender, because honestly he’s probably queer. A slow realization.

Eddie was now clutching the glasses, hard enough that they could break. Anger and hurt and sadness was filling him. Why can’t he _remembe_ -

There’s a figure at the Quarry, standing over the cliff. He’s wearing a suit, but he recognizes the figure. Tall, lanky, dark curly hair. He looks weird without glasses.

And then he knows who he is.

The glasses almost break, but he stumbles forward, and the figure turns as he says his name.

“ _Richie_.”

The figure turns at the call of his name, and tears well up as he realizes as well. He smiles, that fucking stupid buck toothed grin.

“ _Eddie_.”

They crash into each other, and Eddie feels whole.

**Author's Note:**

> A series now!!! Gonna be fun!!


End file.
